


This Body

by jeejaschocolate



Category: Black Jack (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Black Jack becomes aware of his body, First Orgasm, First Sexual Experience, Gen, Masturbation, Medical Conditions, Needles, he likes it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 14:03:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5747197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeejaschocolate/pseuds/jeejaschocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Biwamaru uses acupuncture to cure more than just Black Jack’s weak intestines. As a result, Black Jack discovers self love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Body

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. I wrote this. Couldn't help it. I love this anime and I had already kind of made myself comfortable. Not to mention, didn't anyone else ever wonder about the specifics of Black Jack's whole body surgery? Like, how does getting a new body implanted on your old, torn up one even work? 
> 
> Am I thinking too hard about it? Most likely. But that is where wonderful smutty fanfiction is born, right? 
> 
> Another title for this fic: Black Jack learns to satisfy himself through masturbation. Yay!

The night felt uneasy. Too quiet. The moon shifted restlessly between the clouds. 

It seemed almost perfect that Black Jack found himself accosted by that quack acupuncturist. At barely 2:00 in the morning.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Black Jack asked the blind man. He was waving his arms around needlessly, trying to block the acupuncturist’s path.

In truth, Black Jack had judged all those people poorly for letting Biwamaru into their homes on a whim. But then the young doctor was himself confronted with Biwamaru, crawling into his window in the middle of the night. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Now, well…clearly no one “let” Biwamaru do anything. He just did what he wanted. Impossible to stop.

Biwamaru chuckled slowly. Although the man could not see, Black Jack felt like Biwamaru was judging him for standing there in nothing but his flimsy pajamas. He stood flabbergasted, waiting for the older man to explain what he wanted.

“I go where I am needed,” Biwamaru explained, setting down his medical bag. “I smelled illness on you the moment we crossed paths.”

Black Jack sighed. “Listen, I don’t want any services from you, alright? I’ve already said I don’t believe in what you do. And even if you’re not a swindler, I can’t condone walking into people’s houses at night to stab them with needles…”

But Biwamaru was already pushing Black Jack down onto his back. On the doctor’s own bed, no less. 

“Nonsense. You need to be cured. I can sense what is wrong with you.” Biwamaru mysteriously pulled out a medium-sized needle from the depths of his bag. “It’s your intestines, right? They have been cut many times.”

Black Jack lifted his head to stare at the acupuncturist in shock. How did he know…? “Y-yes…” the doctor admitted.

“I see, I see,” Biwamaru murmured, feeling across Black Jack’s lower shin. 

The older man had a surprisingly gentle touch. Black Jack felt like he was being read, like Biwamaru could read the story of his body with nothing more than a light pass of his fingers.

“Hmm, yes. I have just the thing for that.” Biwarmaru settled his hands on the balls of Black Jack’s foot. He spread apart the doctor’s two front toes, exposing the thin skin in between. 

It felt surprisingly intimate, even though it was just his toes. But still, Black Jack had never exactly shown his body to another person, besides Dr. Honma, of course. He shuddered as Biwamaru lightly pinched the skin between his toes.

Saying nothing else, Biwarmaru stabbed the skin there with his needle. The sharp point went in with nothing but a slight tingle. Black Jack cried out softly despite himself.

“There you go,” Biwarmaru said with a smirk, pulling out the needle with a twist. “Now you will have no more intestinal problems for the rest of your life.” 

Black Jack felt a small tremor in his stomach. He had felt this before, of course, a feeling of digestion…and perhaps…Black Jack sat upright, unsure if he would need to suddenly excuse himself to the bathroom. Luckily, the feeling passed in a moment.

Relieved, Black Jack stared at Biwamaru. “W-well…I suppose I should thank you.” 

Biwamaru was shuffling around in his medical bag again. “Not yet, not yet,” he said. “There’s still one more part of you that needs healing.” 

This time, the acupuncturist pulled out a small needle, barely bigger than a sewing needle. He pushed Black Jack down again and started to feel along his chest.

“This is more than enough, Biwarmaru, I would like you to leave now…”

“Nonsense, nonsense,” Biwarmaru drawled. He found the hem of Black Jack’s shirt and pulled it up to his chest, exposing the man’s scarred stomach. Tapping his fingers along the flesh there, he continued, “I can tell what’s wrong. You’re not functional, are you?”

“I beg your pardon?” Black Jack asked, twitching every time the old man’s leathery fingers tapped his abdomen. Were those hands traveling lower…?

“I’m talking about your manhood, son,” Biwamaru replied, without any hint of embarrassment. He was feeling along the lower part of Black Jack’s abdomen, face pulled together in deep concentration. “It doesn’t work, does it? You’ve never been able to use it for what a man needs, have you?”

Black Jack was sweating and blushing profusely. Of course, all that was completely true. His member was not…functional, as Biwamaru put it. But Black Jack had long since accepted that fact ever since Dr. Honma explained it to him when he was but a boy. Black Jack knew he would never be able to experience sex like a regular person. In fact, sometimes he was grateful for it, considering how distracting sex and romance seemed to be to other people. But here was Biwamaru, confronting him with his own impotence…

The doctor tried to sputter something out in excuse, but he realized it was useless. Biwamaru had read the truth plainly enough. 

“This is tricky work,” Biwarmaru rambled, almost to himself. “I’ve cured a few men of dysfunction here and there, but this…to be completely impotent your whole life…this is a different matter.” 

Finally, Biwamaru found a pressure point very near to Black Jack’s pelvic bone. He pressed down on it once. Black Jack groaned in response, feeling some nerves along his spine spark to life. 

Smirking, Biwarmaru pulled out his needle again. “Found it.” With that, he raised his hand high and brought it down sharply, stabbing Black’s Jack’s soft, patchwork flesh. 

A tight, warm feeling flowered across Black Jack’s chest. He put his hand there instinctively, wondering if he was breaking out into a rash or something. But no, the skin there felt the same, no increase of temperature along the surface. The feeling was coming from inside…

“There,” Biwarmaru said, removing the needle and standing upright. “Now you should have no problems.” He chuckled for a moment, regarding Black Jack by looking vaguely in his direction. “Enjoy yourself now, but don’t forget that moderation is the key to happiness.” 

The warm feeling in Black Jack’s chest solidified, turning into a definite heat. He swallowed thickly, noticing an increase in his heart rate.

Choosing to ignore this, he sat up and threw his feet onto the cold floor. As he lifted his torso, he felt the heat start to trickle downward…moving towards his stomach…

“So you’re finished, then?” Black Jack asked. It was unnerving that he had to actually ask that.

“Oh yes, yes,” Biwarmaru drawled, scooping up his medical bag and hoisting it onto his shoulder. “I’ll be going now. And don’t even think of offering me any money.” 

Black Jack stood and led Biwarmaru to his front door. He opened it, leaving space for Biwarmaru to tap his way out into the cool night. 

Despite all the humiliation, Black Jack honestly felt like Biwarmaru had done him a favor. Probably. Unless there was still some swindling aspect in all this that he was missing. But no, it seemed the old blind man had good intentions after all. With…questionable methods to say the least.

“Listen,” the doctor called to Biwamaru’s back. “If you’re ever in need of surgery, come to me first. I’ll operate on you.”

At a somewhat discounted price, he thought to himself. He was no charity, after all. 

“Very kind of you,” Biwarmaru called back. “I’ll keep it in mind. Take care of yourself, now!” 

Then the old man turned and walked into the night. He sang softly to himself, “ _When I walk east the wind blows…when I walk west it rains…_ ”

Black Jack watched Biwarmaru disappear. Then he walked inside with a sigh. The darkness of his own home greeted him. Everything seemed suddenly still now, where before it had been restless. Actually, he realized, that was not quite true. The restlessness had simply transferred from outside to within…

Inside, Black Jack felt that same insistent heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. He stood in the darkness trying to register what feeling this was, but he had nothing. No data on this. It could have been anything. So, he decided to go into the bathroom to take proper stock of himself.

Flicking the light on slowly, Black Jack registered how the heat in his abdomen responded to each movement. With some intestinal tract problems, the feeling could seem to spread the more one moved their muscles. Black Jack knew that firsthand. But this was different. The heat stayed solidly in his abdomen, resting just beneath where Black Jack knew his bladder was. The doctor took his shirt off to accurately assess the problem.

Naked to waist, Black Jack stared at his own reflection. The scars that ran across his form were a relief in their own right. He was familiar with each one as if there were old friends. He found some comfort in the sight of those stitch marks, knowing that this was still his body, regardless of whatever Biwamaru had done. He would just have to figure this out. 

And he would, of course.

Calmly, Black Jack pressed into his stomach, feeling for any pain that might erupt. None did. He pressed harder, feeling around the organs underneath—organs that had been carefully placed there by human hands. Everything seemed intact and fine. There was still no pain. Black Jack blinked and felt along his bladder to where the heat was…

Suddenly the heat dropped lower. Black Jack inhaled deeply, unsure of what sensation would follow. He could feel it, he could actually feel this tingling warmth spreading out beneath his pelvic bone until…

Black Jack cried out. His whole body was on fire now. But not in pain. Black Jack was relieved to find that there was no pain in this. But still…

He looked at himself in the mirror. His normally pale, uneven complexion was marked with a distinct blush. He brought his hand to his cheek in surprise. He did not believe he had ever seen himself with a blush lighting up his face.

Then the heat spread lower. Black Jack felt suffused with unbearable warmth, concentrated in his groin. He looked down to find that there was an unfamiliar bulge in his pajama pants. Not just a bulge. His pants had stretched out around his groin until it looked almost like a tent…

Taking uneven breaths, Black Jack ran a hand through his hair. He was surprised to find that he was shaking and sweating. Was he ill? He felt lightheaded like he might faint. He brought a hand to his forehead to try and take his own temperature. 

Useless. His fingertips on his skin felt like a caress all of a sudden. Intrigued, Black Jack trailed his hand downward, across his face, until he came to his lips. They were wet and trembling. He felt along their familiar outline with shaky fingers. 

“Oh…” Black Jack moaned. His lips were bursting with sensation. Every pass of his fingers felt like he was rubbing his lips against the finest silk. They twitched with the unfamiliar sensation. Soon enough, Black Jack was rubbing his lips over and over, eyes closing of their accord…

Then he felt an unmistakable twitch in his pants. The doctor’s eyes shot open and he stared down at his lower body. 

No denying it now. He could feel his member, alive and wanting, stiff for the first time. Black Jack pulled his pants off in disbelief. Sure enough, his penis had become hard, standing almost perpendicular to his body. The normally pale flesh there was blushed pink, red at the tip where a bit of fluid had gathered.

Black Jack marveled at the sight of himself. He had never experienced an erection before, not really. There was one time when he was a teenager and he had awoken from some tantalizing dream (Black Jack did not even remember the images anymore) to find a weak stiffness in his drawers. The second he sat up and regarded himself, it was gone. To Black Jack’s memory, that was the only time he had ever been sexually excited.

The doctor stared at his hard penis in amazement. Dr. Honma had told him, no holds barred, that Black Jack’s genitals had been blown off in the bomb that disfigured him and killed his mother. They were able to graft a rudimentary penis and testicles onto him during the operation that saved his life, but the parts were mostly for show. Dr. Honma wanted him to feel like he had not lost himself in the accident, and so he gave him back a semblance of manhood by putting some flesh between his legs, but…medical science was not advanced enough to give him the blood flow and nerve endings necessary to make his penis work like any other man’s.

The news had been strange as a child. During the recovery process, Black Jack did not even think on it at all. It was only when he was in high school, and boys around him started expressing an interest in girls, that Black Jack realized what he had lost. The boys at school brought in gravure magazines and read them when the teachers weren’t looking. Some of them got hard right there, giggling and making fun of each other until they could run off to the bathrooms to manhandle themselves. Yet, these magazines did nothing for Black Jack. He felt not the slightest bit of difference. As he matured into an adult, nothing changed for him. He had never been in any kind of relationship. Sexuality had just never entered into his life. 

And Black Jack was not bitter about that. The way he saw it, his body was useful for mainly one thing: Performing surgery. Sex was not part of that. Which was fine; it left more time and energy for him to devote himself to his work. 

But now…

Black Jack was in awe at the sight of himself. So, this was an erection? He blinked and turned his head from side to side, taking in the new sight from all angles. Black Jack knew enough from medical textbooks about the science behind sexual excitement. This stiffness was due to blood flowing directly to the genitals. That also explained the lightheadedness. 

Still, nothing in the textbooks described the kind of skin sensitivity he was currently experiencing. The air from his own breath as it touched his stomach made him quiver. He noticed also that his nipples were hard all of a sudden. Was that part of the response?

Experimentally, Black Jack touched his nipples. He bit his lip hard against the lurching pleasure that arose afterwards. He had thought the nerve endings in his nipples to be dead. Which was fine, male nipples were vestigial anyway, but…now? What was this?

He traced the outline of his nipples with one hand, gasping for breath, and watching how his hardness twitched in response. There was some connection between nipples and member, it seemed. Obviously.

Black Jack swallowed hard and thought about what he should do. To be sure, this feeling of warmth and sensitivity was absolutely intoxicating. No way he could ignore this and crawl back to bed like any other night. So that left just one choice. How far he could go?

Well, Black Jack was always one to test to the limits. 

Grinning on one side of his face, Black Jack brought his fingers to the side of his cock. He grazed the shaft lightly, taking note of any reactions. The hardness twitched again and Black Jack felt a surge of pleasure. He ran his fingers up and down the shaft curiously. Once more, his eyes closed of their own accord. He realized slowly that the cock was an epicenter of sensation. Tracing each engorged vein caused a chain reaction of responses across his body, like ripples in a pond. As he curled his fingers into a light fist, Black Jack’s whole body began to twitch. 

Now he was at his cock’s mercy, it seemed. How strange that such an inconsequential part of himself, something he had thought was just there for sentimental reasons, suddenly took control. Black Jack realized he had been a fool for disregarding the power of his own genitals. At the same time, he felt something inside of himself click, like a locked door had just been opened.

He squeezed himself experimentally. As if on cue, his knees buckled and Black Jack had to catch himself by grabbing onto the sink in front of him. Slowly, he eased himself into a sitting position on the floor, leaning the weight of his body against the cold tile wall that had never been finished. He was subconsciously careful never to let go of his cock. It seemed his body knew what it wanted.

Leaning his head on the wall, Black Jack gripped himself and started stroking. His head rolled from side to side, legs twitching up and down at the knees. So many feelings all that once. Every part of his body tingled with pleasure. He had never felt pleasure before, but it was…beautiful. A type of freedom.

He was almost unaware of his moaning. Each stroke along his shaft called forth another moan from somewhere in his chest. Black Jack had never heard such sounds from himself and he briefly wondered if it was indeed him making all that noise. 

But it was. His patchwork body had come alive. Pleasure snaked its way across every inch of him, running along nerves long dead or dulled from a past pain so intense it had nearly killed him. Black Jack felt each nerve light up again, sending signals of pure bliss to his nervous system. 

The doctor stroked himself harder. He was mapping out the expanse of his newfound erection, testing which spots were most sensitive, which elicited the strongest response. He noticed the head of his cock seemed to be where the most sensitive nerves were collected. To test this theory, Black Jack ran his thumb along the tip of his cock, smearing pre-come across the head. 

“Ah!” Black Jack cried out, bending forward at the waist. Maybe the head was too sensitive after all. Such sensitivity was…exquisite, but so intense as to be near painful. He would have to utilize that in moderation.

Suddenly Black Jack heard a knock the door. He jumped and gathered his cock in his hand, in part to cover himself and in part to protect this new, wonderful discovery.

“Doc?” It was Pinoko. Of course. He had been so absorbed that he had not even heard her usually distinctive footsteps. “I heard shouts. Are you…okay?”

“I-I’m…fine, Pinoko.” Black Jack realized he sounded different. His voice was more high-pitched than normal. “Just a passing…condition. Nothing serious.”

“A condition?!” Pinoko cried. “Are you sure? Let me see!” The door knob turned as Pinoko tried to come in.

“N-no!” Black Jack answered, pulling his knees up. “Pinoko, listen! I’m perfectly alright and you need to leave! Go back to bed. Forget about this.”

“Doc…” Pinoko called sadly, letting go of the doorknob. “Well…if you say so…”

Black Jack blinked and took a deep breath. He tried to steady himself to sound normal. “Yes, Pinoko. I’m fine. We’ll talk in the morning.” 

“…Ok…” 

Black Jack heard the squeak of her footsteps retreating back to her bedroom. He would definitely have to have a talk with her about…boundaries. Especially in regards to closed bathroom doors.

Sighing in relief, Black Jack turned back to the erection nestled in his hand. Perhaps this thing was more of a nuisance, he thought. But it was still hard, throbbing insistently in his palm. So demanding. He curled his hand around himself to begin stroking once more.

Black Jack wanted to take his time. He stroked himself languidly, bringing his hardness back to full length, rubbing the liquid at the tip all over to provide some lubrication. As he pleasured himself, his mind began to lose focus. At first this was about experimentation and curiosity. Now it was all about sensation. The gathering pleasure was building, pumping his body full of endorphins and adrenaline. His heart was racing, he could hear the blood pounding in his ears. When would this end…?

Naturally, Black Jack knew that the endpoint of sex was an orgasm, but…at this point, the doctor found that he was almost afraid to experience such a thing. Was his body able to handle it? Sure, Biwarmaru had apparently cured his life-long inability to get it up, but…did that mean his body had become capable of enduring sexual release?

His mind seemed to fracture into dissenting opinions. On the one hand, he should probably stop for safety reasons, just to make sure he did not accidentally give himself a heart attack or maybe loose some of the stitches holding his body together. But on the other hand…this pleasure was impossible to stop. His body was calling out for release. His cock was as hot as a small flame, trembling with impending orgasm. His eyes were sealed shut, protecting against the mounting pressure pushing against the backs of his eyeballs. 

“No…” Black Jack whispered. 

There was no way he could stop now. If he was to be damned by this, then so be it. He needed to know what was going to happen; both in a visceral way at the beck and call of his own bodily needs, and in an intellectual way to satisfy his own thirst for answers.

Black Jack’s hand moved of its own volition. His was now pulling furiously on himself, hand flying up and down his cock as his body prepared itself. Black Jack felt like he was on the brink of death…perhaps he was…

Then, orgasm washed over him. His cock jerked as cum splattered everywhere, across his chest and face, even as far as his forehead. But Black Jack took no notice of that. He felt like his body had been consumed and electrified all at once, riding on waves of pleasure that peaked over and over again until his hyper-sensitive body could take no more. He cried out, feeling his throat burn. His nerves, all fully awake now, tingled chaotically, sending a jumble of signals across his body. He felt need and pleasure all at once until they merged together to feel like some sense of satisfaction.

When that satisfaction settled, Black Jack started to come back into himself. His awareness returned, slowly. He felt the wall on his back, the tile on his legs, his chest moving up and down with each breath. He dropped his hands to his sides. The coldness of the tile helped to return him to his senses as well.

Carefully, Black Jack opened his eyes. The familiar sight of his bathroom greeted him. He took stock of his body again. No pain. Just intense, fading pleasure that seemed to linger in his belly. He gave a cursory run of his fingers across his body to check that no stitches had reopened after twenty some-odd years. None had. But, he did come across the wetness from his orgasm…which shocked him a little.

Black jack studiously wiped the cum away from his face and chest. That this body was capable of pleasure at all was shocking—that he could achieve erection and orgasm with semen like any other man was…phenomenal. 

Perhaps there was some medical weight to Biwamaru’s acupuncture, after all. Perhaps all of this had been nothing less than a miracle. Black Jack knew enough to believe in miracles after everything he had been through.

Left over form the intense satisfaction and pleasure were some emotions, as well. Black Jack had felt numb at first, but now he was starting to register an overwhelming sense of joy. It was puzzling. He had read something of emotions being connected to a physical response when he studied the central nervous system, but this…he had not been prepared for the intensity of this feeling. Such joy, as if everything in him was at peace for once.

Suddenly, Black Jack found himself thinking about his mother. What would she say if she could see him now? He was too far gone to be ashamed. In fact, Black Jack was inclined to feel the opposite. He believed his mother would be proud of him. This was a part of life that had been sealed off to him. Now he was able to experience a whole realm of things he thought unimportant and impossible. He was one step closer to achieving true humanity again, even after twenty years. 

Black Jack sighed, not realizing that his eyes had filled with tears.

He wondered where this left him. His cock had stilled, finally. Blood flowed throughout the rest of him now as it normally did. But the pleasure had not fully dissipated. 

When would he feel all of that again? How could he continue to satisfy himself, as needed?

Black Jack smiled. He supposed only time would tell.

 

 

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I wrote this myself, but I couldn't help but be so happy for Black Jack when he finally gets to come. Think about discovering all that in your thirties...aww. 
> 
> Might keep going with this. It is my headcanon after all.
> 
> Enjoy the miracle of life, everybody :)


End file.
